


a touch of emptiness ;

by dledee



Category: The Originals (TV)
Genre: Gen, daggered
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 21:38:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1151090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dledee/pseuds/dledee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A daggered Elijah waiting on the moment to awaken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a touch of emptiness ;

    ❝…❞

          A soft hum filled the air. A phone that no one could answer stored away in a pocket no one would reach for. One more beep. One more message left without any possible reply. And it’s owner lay there  _almost_  sleeping. The owner of an heart prevented from beating by the ashes of the old White Oak tree that had given them life and had the ability to take it back. Veins that had been drained of blood and now seemed like dust. Throughly taking away the fake life which had once filled him. 

     And it all felt meaningless. 

         There was little that still had any importance in the world after such a betrayal from your own blood. Yet, the worst was perhaps how  _expected_  it all was. It had always been a matter of time until Klaus did it. Until his little brother gave up on himself and in all that would ever dare to stand  _by_  him… Somehow he just hadn’t expected it to be so soon.

           Yet, even with this new found listlessness, Elijah still couldn’t find in his mind the choice of giving up on him. No, it  _wasn’t_  a choice, it would never be a choice. He could  _never_  give up. He could  _never_  surrender and face the fact that his brother had been lost to him due to Elijah’s own choices, to one crass mistake that catapulted them all into whatever this was meant to be. Death had been an illusion for the last thousand years, this was just a different kind of illusory death that had only to last a bit longer. A bit longer and the regular sort of death he had learnt to live with would grab hold of him again, holding him tightly in it’s grasp and forbidding him of letting go… He could  _never let go_.

         Oh, but sleep was welcomed.

               If only it wouldn’t come with worries he could not quell. If only he could forget the promise he’d made to Hayley. If only he could forget the deal carefully forged with Sophie. If only he could forget the battle for New Orleans and how quickly Klaus could throw it all to waste. If only he could forget the little sister that was certainly the one who made the phone ring every single day. If only he could forget  _her_ … That person whose name he always skipped when going through his contacts list, the one he had willingly stepped away from… For this. This was what he had chosen in the end, what he would always surrender himself to. A remote sleep in the limbo of time and space, shapeless thoughts that crowded him and tried to make themselves heard. But it all was in vain. The silver claw binding his heart did not allow for any thoughts to take form.

         Wait.    Wait.    Wait.

         Wait and all shall be rewarded. Be patient and life will find a way to give you what you search for.

         Wait.     Wait.    Wait.

                   Like the ticking of the clock, telling the seconds that went by. The hours. The days. The months. Not years. Still not years. That was good. Still not a century, not like Kol and Rebekah. Still not a millennium, not like Finn. There was hope, even if faded. There was goodness, even if scarce. The world wasn’t all dark. Niklaus wasn’t all dark. And believing was the start. Believing was the start to make the thought a reality. 

                   How he wished he had the chance to forget all and lay there forgotten, to not have to attend to obligations which bound him to this almost life. But there was the meeting with Marcel. The words the younger vampire spilled on Klaus. Niklaus couldn’t do it on his own…  _Family is power_. People willing to unconditionally support you and stand by your side for a thousand years no matter the monster you find yourself becoming. People who don’t mind that the blood dries in your veins while your conscience survives the worst trials it has to face. People whom you’ll forgive for causing you such trials.

         It could all be worse. It could  _always_  be worse. After all, they still had family. They weren’t alone.

                                                                                                 ** _They would never be alone_**.


End file.
